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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24565597">One of a Kind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenadottir/pseuds/ravenadottir'>ravenadottir</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Love Island (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexual Female Character, Developing Relationship, F/F, Female Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Pansexual Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:01:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24565597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenadottir/pseuds/ravenadottir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s not much to say about her without a warm feeling in your heart. The saying about a smile that can light up the room is the perfect way of describing her.<br/>And despite of being your friend the entire time, there was always goosebumps whenever you hugged or talked. You couldn’t help daydream about her, even if there was no possibility of them coming true.<br/>But now that you’re on the outside, and you remained in touch, there’s a spark of hope in you.<br/>And maybe, in her, as well.</p><p>***on hiatus***</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chelsea/Main Character (Love Island)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One of a Kind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Watford, at this time of the year, is a little boring without your friends. Ever since you came back from the Villa, after winning the first prize, it’s been hard to maintain contact with everyone. Except maybe for the events you’re obligated to attend from time to time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even then, it’s not always so fun or entertaining. After you and your partner broke up, the tension hovered over said events and parties. Especially when the watchers, fans or followers want to take photos with the ex-Islanders, you included.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s not much you can do about the friends you kept, since they’re scattered throughout England, and most of them are constantly working. The idea of meeting for coffee and catching up is nice in theory, but the truth is, most of them are moving on, getting new job opportunities in different continents, opening their own businesses or simply venturing in a new romance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You decided to take a break from your occupation, to get clarity on what you really wanted to do after the show. In such little time, it changed you. For better or for worse, it did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Usually, on Saturdays, you find yourself at home, on the couch, bored and flipping movie after movie, or tv show after tv show, until you find something to play in the background so you can scroll on your phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you put the remote down, your phone vibrates in your pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Incoming call from Chels?” you say to yourself with a confused look, as you stare at the picture of her contact. A selfie you took, by the pool, her heart-shaped sunglasses reflecting your finger as it pressed the camera button, to take the photo. You smile, involuntarily, your cheeks flushing as you hear her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, hun!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chels!! How are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m great, I’m great. Listen, I don’t have much time to talk, but I called to check if you’re at home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am… why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… I’m in Watford visiting a client, and I’m about to finish it up... so, I was wondering if you wanna hang out or something…?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, yes please! I’m bored out of my mind!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She giggles for a moment too long, luring a smile from you. “Great! I’ll drop by, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fantastic! Where are you right now?” you get up from the couch, heading to the kitchen, to check if you have drinks to pour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m at the lad’s house, but I was gonna buy some wine for us after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can hear two masculine voices in the background, talking about walls and throw-pillows. “Ah! You know me so well… I just got up to check if I had any, in my kitchen!” you laugh, awkwardly, and she responds the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great minds think alike, babes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm…. Do you think you’re gonna stay overnight, again?” your voice is timid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s better. I’m gonna be drinking a lot and I’m not about to waste a slumber party opportunity, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smile to yourself. “Exactly! You read my mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, I’ll probably be there in an hour, ok? Ust to make sure I have it right, text me your address? It’s been a while since I've been there!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’ll text it to you. See you then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See ya!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s uncanny how every time you hear Chelsea’s perky voice, it urges you to put on a tight dress and go party. It’s just a natural response to whatever she says or does. Just like with Priya, the first instinct is to put on a smoking hot dress, big dangling earrings and a fabulous pair of high heels, to paint the town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After hanging up, you type your address, sending it with a wink face. “Is that too much…?” You ponder, but your finger hits “send” before your mind can decide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The response comes quickly. “slumber party time 😉”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heading towards the kitchen, you reserve the glasses, the snacks and some dessert you bought earlier, from your favorite place, downtown. It’s also Chelsea’s favorite. The best cheesecake you’ve ever had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s so crumbly, and sweet but not too much… just perfect, you know?” Chelsea observed the piece of cheesecake on the tips of her fork, studying it with furrowed brows. “Perfect balance…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the first time she ever came to your house, to spend the weekend. One of the best and most enjoyable times you had in years, apart from the parties and drunk conversations back in the Villa. She has a gift of bringing the mood up, even in the midst of the hardest times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She has it in her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lost in thought, and items in hand, you place them, neatly on the glass surface of your coffee table, moving back to bring more things that would constitute this, a slumber party. More pillows. Way more! Blankets and a pair of fuzzy slippers she gave you as a birthday gift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s been forever since you saw Chelsea the last time, and now that she is coming, you couldn’t be more excited. No one else understands you like she does, or respects your choices, for that matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the fact that you’re single, only makes everything more exciting. People praised you for keeping the money, but after a while, their behavior started changing, and soon enough, people were always too busy to hang out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You knew your decision would bring negative consequences, but at that point, you knew, in your heart, it wasn’t meant to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All because a certain short, lovely girl, who gets sidetracked easily, came in. Open arms and heart, it didn’t take you too long to realize how special she was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doorbell cuts your thoughts short, your heart racing, along with the butterflies in your stomach. Reaching for the knob, you can hear Chelsea’s unmistakable humming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god! Hi!” she hugs you, bags in hand, a couple of them hitting your shoulder blades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow…” you chuckle with the light pain. “Hi…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she puts them on the ground, hugging you, grazing her palms on the bruised spot on your back. Her voice comes out muffled as she tries to talk, her chin on your shoulder. “I was just so excited to see you, babes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Chels, it’s ok. Really…” you continue to rub it, discreetly as she pulls away, a guilty frown on her face. “Seriously. It’s nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiles sweetly, picking up the bags from the floor. “Are you letting me come inside after that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An amused chuckle escapes your lips, luring one back from her, as you step aside. Embarrassed, she tosses her hair back, going inside. “So… where do I put these?” She raises the brown bags by the handles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, let’s put them in the kitchen.” You nod to the entrance of the dining room and she moves forward, you in tow, after closing the door behind you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I was anxious to see your house after you redecorated!” Her eyes roam on the walls of the kitchen, admiring the pieces of art you have hanged, besides the shelves with cooking books and decorative utensils. “Has Bobby been here, yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm… no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He would go insane with how cute this room is!” she puts the groceries on the light grey counter, beckoning you to join her. “So… what’s new with you, hun?” Chelsea picks up two bottles, handing you one. “This one needs to breath for thirty minutes…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” You grab the decanter from the bottom cabinet of the kitchen island, popping the bottle open and pouring the liquid into the glass container.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This one…” she raises her brows with wild eyes. “It’s for now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah… now you’re talking!” you take the wine from her hand, using your golden opener to pop the cork, grabbing two large glasses. “Erm… nothing new. I’m taking a break for a while, focusing on learning new things, nothing exciting… what about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugs. “I got a couple of jobs here in Watford. This man I came to have the meeting with?” she leans in, whispering with a palm next to her mouth. “Filthy rich!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” you shoot her an amused look. “Are we talking…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like… Kardashian rich…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chelsea is taken aback by your reaction, laughing with her head hanging back. “I love telling you things. Your reactions are always the best!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I try, babes…” you fill the two glasses with the wine, offering her one. “Here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thanks.” She takes a sip, humming with delight. “Yes! This is what I’m talking about!” her gaze falls on the dining room table, visible from where you stand, through the open doorway. “Say… you changed a lot here, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… yeah. I bought a couple of new things. Nothing major. But I did change my entire bedroom!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh! I bet I’m gonna love your bedroom!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just then, your mind wanders to the last time Chelsea spent the night. She was afraid of sleeping on the couch, so you shared your queen size bed. The scent of vanilla from her hair was amazingly sweet, and she, surprisingly doesn’t move much during sleep. It was torture to share your bed. You tossed and turned almost the entire night, trying to avoid even looking at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A series of finger snaps breaks your trance. “Babes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…?” you blink slowly, focusing on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You spaced out… like… for a full minute. Are you ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shake it off, taking a sip of your drink. “Y-yeah… I-I’m fine… what were you asking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I asked if I’m getting a proper tour. After you changed your décor, I wanna see what you did!” she hugs herself, propping her elbows on the surface, next to a few ingredients lying on the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Of course! A tour… right…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… you’re all mysterious about it and I was dying just wondering why you didn’t want my help!” she pouts, over a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right! Yeah… I wanted to…” you stammer. “T-to prove I can do it too!” your awkwardness comes across as your voice trembles. “So… wanna start by the bedroom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm, sure. After we do this…” her slightly pink cheeks gain a deeper tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right… of course…” you chuckle, nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, why are you alone on a Friday night?” Her index finger follows a marble pattern on your kitchen counter. Her voice is a little shaky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even know how to answer that…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Girl, I’m in the same boat... strange how we went through so much, only to break up with our partners a few days later.” She rolls her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With me was the same day, so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sorry… I forgot.” she puts her hand on her chest, her light pink nails glistening with the beams from the lamps. “I’m so insensitive…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, of course not. These things happen, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess it was for the best.” She takes a couple of steps, standing behind you, perching on your shoulder. “You look better than never!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shake your head, biting your lip, not being able to hide a smile. “You think so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you kidding me? Did you forget to buy a mirror?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I must say, you look better than never, too. And I didn’t think that was possible!” you blurt out your compliment, awkwardly shifting in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her cheeks flush for a moment, she slaps your arm, playfully. “Oh, come on…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it! Your skin is glowing, and I don’t think I can deal with the amount of shine in your eyes.” You pour two glasses of wine, offering her one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My… my eyes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I mean, you have beautiful eyes, but they’re sparkling right now.” You tip your head, feeling a warm rush on your neck. “Just… you know.” You quickly turn to the counter, picking up a small wheel of Gouda, slicing it, placing the portions neatly on a white, ceramic platter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow… nice work. Mine would be all over the place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You remember I like cooking, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I didn’t know you could do that.” she points to the arranged line of cheese.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It comes naturally, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of coming naturally…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she can finish, you chuckle, loudly, covering your mouth for a moment. Her face turns a light shade of red and she looks to the sides, not knowing how to act.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gosh, Chels!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I... I didn’t mean it like that…!” she stutters, embarrassed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Especially because it takes a lot of work, it doesn’t “come” naturally!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my! You’re terrible!” she laughs, lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless you know what you’re doing…” you smirk to yourself, avoiding her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is taken aback, looking at you, brows raised, but a sly smile. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… never mind. That joke only works with… crushes, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right… so…” she tilts her head, curious gaze following your motions. “I don’t think we ever talked about your… you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You perch your lips. “Me, being into girls as well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… I just, I don’t know.” She sighs, furrowing her brows. “We never talked about it, not really…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to?” you speak in a more serious tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm… I mean… I do have some doubts. No! Not doubts, more like… questions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Questions, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, color me curious!” Chelsea takes a seat on the stool next to you, observing your skills with the knives and ingredients.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” you grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless you’re not comfortable with that… in which case it's totally…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chels?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine. Honestly. If more people would just be genuinely curious and eager to learn, trust me… things would be easier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t wanna sound clueless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one is born knowing everything, right? We learn. And it’s better to ask someone who goes through it, than finding the wrong source and learning nothing useful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods slowly, blinking. “Right. Ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grab the plate and your glass, gesturing for her to do the same, now walking down the hallway, towards the living room. “But hey, ask away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok… when did you know? That you were… interested in girls?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was really young. Suffice to say Simba and Nala were both cute to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes go wide. “That soon, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For me it was. For some people, it takes years and years of being married. Some realize when they’re teenagers, some, at old age… it definitely depends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes a sip of her wine. “What was your first experience with someone that… you know… wasn’t a guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sputter your wine, now looking for tissues to wipe your chin. “Chels… you can say girls!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry!” she laughs, nervously. “I keep trying to be respectful… and I end up… blabbering!” her tone is defeated as she lowers her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s ok… really. Just… treat it like a natural thing. Because it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A look of realization dawns on her delicate features. “So… what was it like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You lick your lips, the nostalgia of your first kiss rushing through your mind. You narrate the story, along with your first girlfriend and the first time you were ever intimate with a girl. She listens to every word, carefully, quiet. After you finish your story, her mien displays a curious tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But weren’t you afraid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oof…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry! I don’t mean to be invasive!” she raises her hands, almost spilling her drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, it’s not that. It’s just… it’s really personal to each individual. I don’t think most are afraid of doing something, more than they’re afraid of what people will think if they find out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that… yeah, it makes sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For instance, I have friends who never had a problem with their parents… but some, unfortunately, don’t have the same luck.” You take a gulp of your drink, grabbing a slice of cheese, placing it on a cracker. “Chels, if you don’t mind me asking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you so curious?” your heart thumps as you try to keep your hopes down. She looks at her glass, contemplating the wine, playing with the rim. You shoot her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s alright! I just… I don’t know. Some things might feel wrong at times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, I’m way more confused than I was before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like this.” She perks up, resting a leg on top of the other. “I know I like men.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs. “Right! And I kind of… don’t know if I like women.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… you mean… you’re having feelings…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sort of.” She smiles weekly. “More like curiosity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You lean over, to give her a pat on the shoulder, showing solidarity. She jumps from your touch, bolting from her seat. You recoil your hand, immediately apologizing. “I’m sorry…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Oh my gosh! I’m so dumb!” she slaps her own forehead, eyes roaming on the rug, looking for her shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chels! What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She picks them up from the floor, mumbling under her breath. “I-I… I think you know…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm…” you shake your head, brows raised, innocently, not being able to form a sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now I made you uncomfortable! Great!” she picks her heels up from the floor, gesturing with them, the pink leather straps dangling between her fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no… you didn’t. It takes a lot to make me uncomfortable!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks at you, tipping her head to the side, a gloominess on her eyes. You slowly reach for her shoes, putting them back on the floor, now patting the seat. After sighing deeply, Chelsea takes a long sip of her wine, avoiding your eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chels?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” she sits, staring at the tv, in front of you, both hands on her cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you wanna talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath, rubbing her knees, she turns to you. “I’m sorry! I know we’re friends!” She starts blabbing so fast, you don’t understand a single word. “And then I decided to just go for it, because it was easier that way, but the truth is…” Your head follows her motions, visibly confused as she gestures all over the place, standing up, sitting down, talking loudly. It’s hard to keep up with her mouth, it being so fast. You make a few words out of her, like “you”, “gorge” “into it”, “Casa Amor” and “always”, but to put them together, it’s harder than it seems.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scooching closer, you take her hands in yours, she slowly turns to you as you smile, caressing her knuckles. “Hi.” Your tone is calm and collected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets a long breath out. “Hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about this? Choose five words or less.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five? That’s impossible!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You talk in your kindest and sweetest tone of voice. “Five… and only five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She twists her nose, pouting, giving you her signature frown face. You laugh, shaking your head and biting your lip. It’s definitely the cutest frown you’ve ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s one!” you start raising fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s two!” you grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She opens her mouth to speak but stops mid breath, knowing fully well you will count another blurt as the third word. “Alright…!” Chelsea grips your hands again, her soft expression luring a smile from you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a stammer later, she hesitates, but the words come out, almost flowing from her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… like… you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lips parted, and raised brows, you stare at her, before bursting into nervous laughter, a sense of relief taking you. She searches for your eyes as you shake your head, clearly confused. “A-are you laughing at me?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Never!” your thumb grazes her knuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just… I’m relieved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relieved?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” you bite your bottom lip. “So relieved, Chels…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here.” you continue to stroke her hand with your thumb. “It’s simple… I like you too. Like… “like like”.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You “like like” me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grin. “Yes, I “like like” you… yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You two stare at each other, a little embarrassed. After a few seconds, you speak, trying your best to sound composed. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t wait for you to finish your thought, cupping your jaw, leaning over, to brush her lips on yours. Soft, warm, the taste of tutti-frutti, from her lip balm, is sweet against your mouth. You raise your hands, placing them on her upper arms, deepening the kiss. The kiss is languid, exciting, millions of sparks rippling on your skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a long moment, she pulls away, slowly opening her eyes, a hint of shock on her expression. “Oof…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It makes you chuckle, biting a smile as your heart flutters, thumping in your chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow… that was…” she scratches the side of her neck. “Wow…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. It was.” You mirror her motions, stammering to find words. “So…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She clears her throat, pointing to you. “You were… erm… gonna say something… before I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think what I was gonna say was… “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oops…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can’t help but share a laugh, avoiding each other’s gazes, even if your hands are still touching. She looks down at them, and you motion to pull them away, but she stops you, by gripping them firmer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So…” she grins. “Maybe we could watch something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That does sound good…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. And maybe… I don’t know, we can order some food…?” there’s a glint of hope mixed with her bashful smile as she looks at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course! Yeah!” you take a couple of deep breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am…” your eyes sparkle, staring at her, fondly. “I’m really, really ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile grows as she sees your expression. “We’re so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cheesy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” she shakes it off, shuddering, now picking up the remote from the coffee table, handing it to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok. Hard task for you. Pick a genre…” Pressing the button, your heart still beats fast, teasing a timid smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something funny… maybe… Pixar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything you want, Chels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yay!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you go through the lists of the streaming service, she orders the food in her phone, swiping left and right, stealing a smile or two in the process. As the food arrives, you sit on the couch, bottle on the coffee table, portions divided in plates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Forgot the chopsticks.” You get up, heading to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Ooh! What about Monsters Inc.?” She flips through a few options.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect! I love Boo!” utensils in hand, you take a seat, tossing your hair back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know right? She’s the cutest!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the cutest… but definitely cute!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her face crumples into a serious, almost grim expression. “Are you bantering?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can you say that? Look at her!” she points to the movie cover on the screen, outraged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok… point taken. But have you seen Baby Groot? He’s adorable!” you pinch your fingers together, reinforcing your argument.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not more than Boo!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you bantering?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Boo is the cutest! Cutest voice, cutest face! Just the cutest!” she shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hun! I don’t think this…” you gesture to the space between you. “… is gonna work!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m… I’m kidding…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs with relief, placing her hand on her chest. “For a moment I thought… I mean, we didn’t even start yet!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yet…?” you look at her expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm… yeah… I guess… right?” a crimson shade creeps under her pink blush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here.” Your arms snake on her sides, embracing her. The scent of roses emanates from her tanned skin as she rests her head on your shoulder. When pulling away, you leave a lingering kiss on her cheek, her eyes finding yours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She moves slowly, lips parted under yours, touching the side of your mouth, finding its way to kiss you again. Her hands graze their way to your waist, the flicker of her tongue sends a shudder through your body, as you cup her chin, deepening the kiss. Her scent inebriates your senses, as you kiss her, a little hungrier. You pull away, stopping yourself, but can’t help a low voice when speaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You smell amazing…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She beams at you, still holding your waist. “I was hoping you would notice. Here…” She tilts her head to the side, offering her collarbone for you to smell. You take in the floral mix from her skin, nuzzling a little closer, her hairs standing on end.  Chelsea rubs her arms, putting the hairs back in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chels, are you ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… let’s erm, let’s eat… and drink…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… let’s…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You awkwardly turn to stare at the TV, the movie playing as you glance at her, from time to time, catching her golden locks from the corner of your eye. As the movie goes on, you wonder if you should drape an arm on her shoulder, but before you rationalize it, your body acts on its own. She grips your dangling hand on her side, kissing your knuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This feels good…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” you ask, moving closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods, smiling, trying her best to focus, but it takes her everything to not turn and stare at you. Her eyes roam, casually, to the clock above your door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… it’s getting late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm… yeah…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should go back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t drive, Chels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t gonna.” she chuckles. “I was gonna, erm… request a car.” She’s holding her phone, waving it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We did say it could be a slumber party. So… you can stay… if… if you want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! No! Not like… erm… that…” you raise your hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, it would be crazy for you to request a car to go home… then request another one in the morning, then coming here and getting your own car and then driving back, all the way to…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She follows your motions with her head, grinning at your blabbering, leaning over to kiss you, shutting you up. “I would love to stay.” She whispers, nipping your bottom lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… yeah. Great! Then…” You lie on the couch, coyly patting the space in front of you. “Promise I’ll behave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gives you a cheeky smile, lying down in front of you, snuggling into the covers. Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 2 starts playing as you smirk at her. “Now, you’ll see the ultimate level of cuteness!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I sincerely doubt it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shush!” You kiss her cheek, focusing on the TV, resting your chin on her shoulder. It doesn’t take long for her to drift off, almost immediately lying to face you, nuzzling in your neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smile, looking down at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Chels…”</span>
</p><p> </p>
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